Ares had planned on staying awake. There was no way he was going to fall asleep and be easy prey for them. He felt Gabrielle snuggle up against him as she had done the night before and he closed his eyes. His hand hovered near the hidden dagger, but would he be quick enough when the time came? And more important, would he be able to use it? He didn't know and not knowing troubled him. He only knew he still loved them. Yet he didn't want to spend the rest of his days as a lycanthropy. That he was pretty sure of. Sometime later Ares opened his eyes and found himself once again alone in the bedroom. Silver moonlight shone in through the window, the wide beam falling across the bed. So when the ghost of Joxer appeared, he wasn't really surprised.

"Wow. Are you STILL here?" Joxer asked as he floated down to the floor. He took of his transparent metal helmet and scratched his head. "I thought you would have left by now. I mean, those two are, umm, dangerous."

"They're werewolves you mean." Ares stated as he jumped out of bed. He pulled the dagger from its hiding spot and held it tightly. Putting his back against the wall opposite the window, he prepared to wait. If either of them decided to have a midnight snack on him, he would be ready!

"Well, yeah. Didn't you know? Heck, even I knew that!" Joxer laughed, pushing his hair from his eyes. Then the ghost grew more somber. "Look, I did a little asking around for you. And I found out that Gabrielle could be cured. She's not a real werewolf yet."

"But I thought she was..." Ares was confused. "Wasn't that her I saw last night?"

"Oh, she can transform into one, yeah." Joxer told him as he sat down on the now empty bed. His body started sinking into the mattress and he frantically waved his arms about. He sunk deeper and deeper until only his head remained. The sight was ghastly, as if he had been beheaded. The fact that his lips and eyes moved made it even worse. "Sorry. I don't have the hang of this ghost stuff yet. Anyway, she won't be a true werewolf until she kills someone when she's transformed. Until then, she can be cured. Or that's what the Light told me."

Ares ignored Joxer's antics and kept his attention on the window. The bedroom door was closed and he listened for the slightest sound coming from that direction. "So how do we cure her?"

"Well, it has to be done outside, under a full moon." Joxer crawled free of the bed and stood up. The ghost dusted at his clothes and straightens his armor, even though nothing had really affected him. "And it will be dangerous. I would do it if I were alive, but you may not want to take the chance. I mean, you don't love Gabby like I did. She means everything to me and I'd gladly give up my life for her again. It's not fair what Xena did to her."

Joxer sniffled, tears forming under his lashes.

Ares thought of the conversation he had overheard, how miserable she had sounded. The crying had pierced his heart. There was no way he could just walk away and leave her like that, not if there was a way to cure her. "Just tell me what to do."

"So you'll do it? Really?" Joxer smiled faintly, his face wet. "OK, you need to kill the wolf inside her with the silver dagger. But if she scratches you..."

"Wait!" Ares interrupted. "Do you mean I have to stab her?"

"Well, you DO need to kill the wolf!" Joxer sniffled again, louder this time. "I don't know if I'd been able to do that. Probably not. I love her too much. But you're used to stuff like that, all those years as the God of War. Then you need to pour some water from a tree stump on the wound and ask the Light to heal her. It should work because she never forsaken the Gods, not like Xena did. And Gabrielle has a good heart."

"A tree stump." Ares stated.

"Yeah, Eli was very specific about that." Joxer replied, shrugging. "It can't be from a lake or a well or a river or anything."

"Joxer, you do realize I killed Eli myself?"

"Oh, sure." Joxer said as he started to fade. "He forgives you. It was all part of the Light's Plan."

Alone once more, Ares shook his head and headed for the bedroom door. "I must be crazy, talking to ghosts and now heading into the night when werewolves are on the loose. Serves me right if I get bit."

****

Ares stepped out into the night. He paused for a moment, his ears listening for the slightest sound. He wondered if he'd be able to hear a werewolf walking. He doubted it. They probably had pads on their feet, so they moved as silently as the animal they resembled. So far he hadn't seen the entire werewolf, so he was unsure of exactly how it looked. Did it run on all four feet like a real wolf or go about on two legs like a human? Either way, Ares realized just by being out here he was putting his life in jeopardy. But as far as he could tell, he didn't have much of a choice. He didn't care to be a sitting duck inside the old farmhouse anyway.

Before he had went outside, Ares had made sure he had a container for the water. The bottle he had been drinking ale from would have to do. It was empty, as he had drunk all the contents on the first day they had arrived. Just setting his eyes on the wreck of a house had depressed him. He couldn't understand what Xena saw in the place.

He stood silently on the wide front porch and surveyed his surroundings. The field stretched out before him, dark and quite. The weeds and grass had grown tall and Ares marked them as a possible hiding place. It would be too easy for something to haunch down in the grass, waiting for some unsuspecting animal to stroll past. His dark brown eyes shifted, glancing toward a larger hulking shadow. The barn. The moonlight revealed that both barn doors had been left ajar, one of them making a screeching sound as it swung in the wind. Except for the slight rustle of wind in the distant trees, the night was silent.

Stepping forward carefully, he moved slowly down the steps. He put each boot down a bit at a time before he trusted his full weight to it. Ares knew the wood was old and tended to make odd squeaking sounds when you walked on it. The last thing he wanted to do was to attract the werewolves ... or the wrong werewolf.

Ares gladly stepped onto the solid earth, pausing again. The last thing he wanted to do was run into Xena. He didn't think he could handle her as a werewolf. The very traits he had admired in her as the God of War would make her very dangerous. She would be lightning fast, flying at him before he even knew she was around. And from the speech he had overheard earlier, she would be too happy to turn him into a lycanthropy. But Ares suspected Xena wasn't in the immediate area. She had probably gone hunting, either in the woods or on some other farm. That meant he only had to deal with Gabrielle.

But how long would Xena be gone?

Ares quickly crossed the wide-open gap between the house and the barn. He didn't want to enter the barn, but he would have to. If his plan was going to work, he was going to need rope. And the only good rope he knew of was on Argo's saddle horn. Xena always kept a coil of rope for tying up what she termed Bad Guys. Often that meant his War Lords. Reaching the barn, he pressed his back against the side and slowly inched his way to the open door. Peering around the door, he saw only blackness within. The moonlight couldn't penetrate the barn's inky interior. So Ares did the next best thing: he listened. Soft sounds drifted out to his ears. Faint shuffling, a soft whinny, a horse's hoof pawing the ground. The animals seemed to be calm, which boded well for him.

As quick as a shadow, Ares slunk inside the dark barn. Careful not to stumble over the piles of hay, he crept to where Xena had stored the horse tact. Finding the rope by feel, he lifted it off the nail on the wall and stuck an arm through the loop. Having acquired what he had come for, Ares headed back towards the open door. The silver dagger was clutched securely in his right hand, the point sticking outward. If a werewolf came upon his, he was ready to defend himself ... he hoped.

Truth was, Ares didn't feel well protected. The dagger looked small and puny compared to his sword. And as a mortal, he felt even less protected. Oh, he had done all right for a year wondering around Greece by himself after he had been freed of the Furies. But then he had to conquer only normal problems, things like getting food and a place to sleep. He had been in a few fights but nothing very serious. Truth was, he had held his own very well. But this was a whole different ballgame. Werewolves were supernatural beasts. Nor could you kill them by normal means. He would have to get in very close in order to stab her with the dagger and that meant she would be able to scratch him. Or sink her teeth into his flesh. No, Ares didn't relish the idea at all. His only hope was to rope her first.

But that meant finding Gabrielle.

Before she found him.

Dagger clutched securely, Ares stepped back into the moonlight.

How am I going to find a tree stump with water in it?

The question was rolling around inside Ares' head over and over. As far as the ex God of War could tell, he had two choices. He could either search the field or search the nearby forest. He wasn't too sure where a tree stump was more likely to be found. The woods, of course, were filled with trees but those were mostly live ones, weren't they? Deciding he would try the field first, Ares left the relative safety of the barn. Besides, the field was closer to the house.

Reluctantly Ares entered the field of waist tall weeds. From the very first step, the weeds wrapped themselves around his ankles. He wretched his feet free only to have new plants tangle themselves around him. It was almost if they were alive and attacking him on purpose. The weeds, Ares discovered, consisted of a large variety. Besides the usual sticky burrs that clung to clothing, there was a very aggressive vine with large star shaped leaves. If Ares didn't know any better, he'd swear the thing was a grape vine! The next second he tripped over a hidden obstacle and fell face first into the thick tangle. His shoulder hit the hard ground, sending a sharp shuddering pain up through his arm. The dagger flew from his hand and tumbled through the air. He watched it for a few brief seconds, the moonlight reflecting off the silver blade. Then it vanished into the thick weeds.

"AAWOOOOOOOO!"

Ares froze where he had fallen, a chill traveling down his spine. It was one of the werewolves!